


After Last Night

by cockles_take_the_wheel



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Cockles, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 17:47:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cockles_take_the_wheel/pseuds/cockles_take_the_wheel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why wasn't Misha wearing his ring at VanCon13?</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Last Night

Misha woke up, alone. His wedding ring on the side table, and no sign of Jensen. 

He had a panel in an hour, but he couldn't bring himself to get up. Not yet. The second he left the bed and his bare-feet touched the plush hotel carpet, it would be over.

Everything from last night: lips and skin and the way Misha leaned in too far and grazed his knuckles down Jensen's face and whispered 'finally' like it was some great confession. The feeling of building pleasure and spiraling need and the plunge of desire that gripped him tight and wouldn't let go.

If he got up now, it would mean he'd fucked up. Well and truly. Jensen had been tipsy, and he was a little past that when he cornered him in the elevator and pressed into the long lines of him, pushing his hips against Jensen's flank and ground and grunted and told him he wanted to fuck him raw. 

If he got up now, he would have to face last night, and Jensen. It would mean the end of their friendship, Misha knew that. The way Jensen had pushed back and told him to 'fuck off' just before Misha assaulted his mouth, and grabbed drunkenly for Jensen's crotch. The way Misha went from too drunk to do much damage at half-mast to painfully hard the instant he  _felt_  Jensen give in to him, like it was some kind of sick power-play - all of it made Misha realize he'd gone too far.

Because, fuck, he'd wanted it. He'd wanted Jensen from the first time they'd met. He wanted to fuck that pretty mouth and bend him over a table and ride him bare and reckless. The urge was so strong, it was nearly a compulsion. And last night, as Jensen bent before him, sweaty and naked in the soft light of his room, Misha told him all this. As he pressed the head of his cock into the crook of Jensen's ass, hot and slick, Misha told him he'd wanted to do this since the first time they shook hands and traded names. 

It didn't matter that in the end, Jensen had let him. Or that he'd come in hot, angry spurts all over the bedspread, untouched. Or that he'd been cursing and rocking his hips in time with Misha. Because Misha knew whose fault this was.

Still a little hungover, and sore, Misha afforded himself the luxury of wallowing in his own self pity for a few more minutes. Eventually though, his alarm un-snoozed, and he had to get up or risk being late. He eyed his wedding ring on the table curiously. Why had he taken it off in the first place?

He and Vicki were currently in one of their open periods, though Misha hadn't partaken in any extramarital dalliances in a  _long_  time. He would never deny Vicki the small comfort of sex while he was away so often. In fact, they'd been in a 'open' period for a few years now. Maybe he ought to check in with her today, just to make sure he hadn't forgotten a 'closing' ceremony. 

In the shower, he tried  _not_  to think about Jensen. Which, of course, only resulted in him being unable to think of anything else. The slide of skin, and his deep, tackied voice when he begged Misha to fuck him. 

"Shit," Misha cursed when he realized he was already hard. This was going to be a long day. He jerked off in the warm water, thinking of Jensen. 

"Ah fuck," Misha grunted as he came, shooting semen on the shower walls. Milky-white against deep blue tiles.

Misha eyed his ring as he dressed quickly. And, for the life of him, he couldn't bring himself to put it on. Not now, not today. Not when all he wanted to do was find Jensen, and beg him to fuck him. 

And his ring, heavy and sturdy and signifying a love that was safe and comforting and strong enough to survive anything felt like it was too much. Too strong, too sturdy, too heavy for today. Today, he wanted to remember just the way Jensen looked as he held him against the back of the door and licked the hollows of his clavicle. He wanted to remember the fleeting feeling of Jensen allowing him to take what he'd wanted for so long. He wanted to remember the sounds their bodies made as they smacked together in the dark.

And his ring made him think of Vicki, and commitment and his life outside his hotel room last night. So, maybe  _not_  wearing the ring could say what he knew he would never get a chance to. Maybe Jensen would see his naked hand and understand that he didn't  _want_  to pretend it never happen. Maybe an un-ringed finger could tell Jensen that he meant everything he'd said last night. 

Then again, maybe it didn't matter what he did today. Maybe all that mattered was the empty bed he'd woken up in this morning. Maybe the glimpse of shame that he'd caught in Jensen's eyes last night when he'd come on his back and thighs and screamed 'yes' over and over again, was all that mattered.

Maybe he'd already lost last night and the hope for more when he dared to reach out and touch the unattainable. Maybe, it was already too late. Maybe it was over before it began, the second he coveted what wasn't his.

This would ruin him. 

**Author's Note:**

> idea from here: [[X](http://he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle.tumblr.com/post/59360778862)] for professortennant who wanted something [angsty](http://professortennant.tumblr.com/post/64973541678).


End file.
